Coral Minor
by Jack V. Briefs
Summary: Edited TG The Mafia. New York. Chicago. Sex. Death. Among the lows and highs of society, Trunks Briefs must battle the neverending war of the good and bad to find himself, and love, before his past and present consume him.
1. Trigger Happy

So...yes . Older story that hasn't gotten much attention from me later, but since I've been writing for it again as of late, I'm goin' chapter by chapter and fixing all the horrible mistakes!! HOW DID YOU PEOPLE READ THIS?! If I'd started reading a story with so many errors I would just go right back x.x So yes, please enjoy the new and BETA-D version...  
  
of Coral Minor ^_^   
  
Disclaimer: *raises eyebrow* You mean your actually going to ASK?! I'm so flattered!!  
  
**************  
  
"She saw you, didn't she?" I kept my hands on my face, covering my eyes in the hope she'd leave me be. Unfortunately, that's not how these things worked. At least not for me.   
  
"I take your silence as a yes. You're gonna have to take care of her. We can't have her slipping about it."   
  
"Bra," I began, raising my head and blinking my weary eyes. "I can't just get rid of her. She's a person too you know." She rolled her eyes at me.  
  
"Trunks, you're too philosophical about this thing. It's not that hard. Just load, point, and shoot. Bada bing, bada boom, no more bitch. I don't get it. You're always like this when it's time to get rid of your hoe."  
  
"She's not my 'hoe'," I hissed at her, the attiude grinding my nerves.   
  
"Right. I believe you. But let me tell you something, brother," she sneered. "If you don't do it, I will." I watched her leave and sighed, leaning forward in my chair to rest my head on my arms. Why couldn't stupid women keep to their own damn business?   
  
This has to be the twelfth girl that I've had to get rid of because she'd found out someway or another what I do, and if not that she's at least seen it.   
  
See, my job's, well, a bit different from other people's. First of all, I get paid probably hundreds of dollars more than most people will ever make in their entire lives. Then again, my job is hundreds of times more dangerous.  
  
I don't know if it's become apparent to you or not just what it is exactly that I do, but if not here it is in black and white.  
  
I'm a hitman. Not just some lazy bum who thinks he's particularly good with a gun, but the prince of it all. The heir to a legacy that's as old as the mafia itself and then some. One of my ancestors was there in the beginning, and now here I am, living proof that legacys do succeed in the modern day and age. The only problem is, I haven't exactly been looking forward to the day it all becames mine.  
  
No, I'm not some emotional wuss who doesn't want to kill. I don't have a problem with it to be honest. I just don't find pleasure in what I do, unlike my sister who, more often that not, makes it all into some sort of game. She says it's for the powertrip. And I don't have much to say about it at all.  
  
Life is something I've always respected and the idea that someone could just as easily take my life as I do their's is a really hard concept to accept. That's why I get to them first.  
  
A knock on the door interrupted my thoughts and I glanced up, not so surprised to see my sometimes-partner peeking his head through the door.   
  
"Hey Trunks, I hate to bother you but Margaret's here." I rubbed at my temples, a headache forming from the large amount of pissed off that is building in there. I know why she's here. Bra told her to come.  
  
Bitch.  
  
"Send her in." He gave me a sorrowful grin which I returned with a small smile of my own. This is the part where any emotional thought has fled and I focused on the task ahead of me.  
  
"Hi, darling," she greeted, walking up to me in her 5'3" glory. Her brown hair is worn big enough to meet me, however, at 5'11". How she walked I guess I'd never know.  
  
"Hi. Listen, there's something I wanted to talk to you about-"  
  
"I know," she began, soft golden eyes looking into mine. There was a hesitance in her posture and voice, mirroring her actions of stepping back. "I know all about you and Trunks, I'm sorry but I can't stay with you. Just knowing what you do and that you make a profit off of it..." She broke off, fear mixing with the former emotion, creating something I've seen many times before. "It terrifies me...And... I can't be in a relationship who's basis is fear." I looked down at my shoes and gave a bitter smile, filled with irony.  
  
"I'm glad you feel that way because so do I." Her surprise was evident as her fear fell away into confusion. My hands settled on her shoulders to keep her eyes on me. "We both agree this relationship is over, Margaret. Right?" She nodded and kissed her fingertips, pressing them to my lips. She feels safer now, I can already tell. Stupid girl, run! Scream! Don't do this to yourself! I want to yell it all at her but it's too late. She stepped back and turned away. It was pure instinct that had me reach for my holster and it's my sadistic side that brought her name to my lips.  
  
"Margaret."  
  
"Yes-" She began to look back and before her eyes could make contact with mine, I fired.   
  
All in a days work I supposed.   
  
Daniel stepped in with a couple of other lackeys and picked up the body, each greeting me their own way before dragging the body off to be cleaned and packaged before disposal. I returned to my desk and sat back while my feet rested on my desk. I was tired, I was hungry, and I had a flight in two hours to have a meeting with the parent that's had me thrown into this world. The worst of it all was that now I had to do it single. This might not sound that bad to any of you out there, but I don't particularly enjoy prostitutes. So, I'd have to find someone before I got there.  
  
I'd have to find a replacement.  
  
**************  
  
That's it for that. I'm sorry for putting up so little of it, but it's just a prolouge to see if anybody's actually interested. It's a little on the darker side but I'll be sure to add some humour in there, as is my way. I bet you all can guess who the replacement is going to be..  
  
Jack: *shakes head to the right at Goten*  
  
Goten: Jack, is there something in your ear?  
  
Jack: NO! No, nothing at all. *watches as he leaves* 'Sucker' 


	2. A Morbid Melting Pot

Yep, changin' this chapter too. _ I should have been kicked repeatedly for all my grammar mistakes ;_; Thanks so much to those who put up with them!   
  
Disclaimer; see chapter 1  
  
**************  
  
It was starting to rain again. The noise played above my head as our business limo drove down the highway toward the airport. I really hated to fly. All the noise and children who couldn't be controlled by their parents...It was all just a really big pain in the ass.  
  
Flying was a crucial part of the job, however, and it got you where you needed to be. The difference was that this flight wasn't just for a job, one of the few exceptions beside the one vacation I'm alloted every year. I was going to meet with the head of the organization, the same person that brought me into this world of kill or be killed. Them and about every other head of operations in the United States. Yearly get together. Good times.  
  
Funny how sarcasm doesn't taste so bitter after a decade or two.  
  
"We're almost there, Mr. Briefs." I nodded at him and sat up in the leather seats, focusing my attention on the water blurred scene beside me. I'm sure it'll just be a dream to fly through that. At least I was in first class and can get a heave drink or two to ease my nerves before hand.  
  
An umbrella was held up for me while I exited the limo. The temperature had dropped dramatically since earlier and my business jacket wasn't doing me any good at all. Growling softly, I wrenched the umbrella from the man and marched towards the building. I knew I wasn't going to enjoy this flight.   
  
**************  
  
"Son Goten? Will a Mr. Son Goten please report to gate 29?"   
  
Well, I was pretty lucky this time. For once my car hadn't given me trouble and I got to work on time. I could remember what had happened the last time I was late for boarding preparations. Ooh, that had not been nice. I'd been lucky they'd let me keep my job.  
  
They wouldn't fire me, though. I'm too good at my job. Not to seem arrogant or anything, I just really had a way with people. Even the most angry of customers laugh by the end of the flight.   
  
I greeted a few pilots before I sse Eveline, my fellow attendant for this flight.   
  
"Hey Ev!" She looked over at me and smiled. She had had her first flight with me and ever since, we'd almost always been together flight wise and had become pretty close friends.  
  
"Hey Goten. I see you actually made it on time for this one."  
  
"Yeah, yeah." I shook off her comment and smiled in return of her own. I reached into my carry on bag and looked to see how my day looks. It seemed like this'd be my only flight for the next couple weeks. Guess they finally approved my application for vacation. I wish they had choosen to tell me *before* I'd left home so I could've packed a tad more.   
  
Rolling my eyes, I told her to go on and head towards the nearest pay phone. The number I dialed took a little time to remember, but I soon got it. She picked up on the second ring.  
  
"Hello?"   
  
"Hey, Susan? Is that room of yours still open?"  
  
"Goten? Of course, it's always open. You know me, they come and go." She laughed and I joined her in it for a moment. I hadn't seen my friend for awhile and I could already tell it would be a nice visit. They always were when she was involved.  
  
"Great. I just found out that I'll be off for the next couple of weeks after my flight tonight. Is it okay if I stay with you?"  
  
"Sure it is! Wow, you haven't visited me in ages! Do you need me to pick you up from the airport?"  
  
"Nah, I'll take a cab. I won't get in till pretty late anyway."  
  
"Oh, okay. Just let me know. I'll leave the key where it always is." I nod, then remember she can't see me.  
  
"Right, anyway, I gotta go. See you later!" I quickly hung up the phone and began to run towards the terminal. They had just called my name again and if I wasn't there by the third time I may lose my job, great people skills or not.  
  
**************  
  
My eyes narrowed at the woman in front of me. Check my bags. Right. I hadn't had to do this for awhile. Now how to get out of it...  
  
"Excuse me, uh," I glanced at her nametag, keeping to being discreet. "Brook. Could you come over here for a second?" She looked around, a good sigh that she wass nervous. Good. No matter how much I loathed how I got it, the power that came from being able to intimidate others can never be replicated.  
  
I resisted the urge to put my hands on the side of my face and yell "Boo!" just to see how she'd react. She must've deemed me as safe, the stupid girl, because she walked closer to me. I lead her to a small nitch in the hallway containing no more than a payphone, clear from most people's sight and far enough out of the way that no one would notice unless they were looking. As soon as she was there I pressed her against the wall and covered her mouth with mine.  
  
Ugh..... I could tell she liked onions. Her breath reeked of it.I kept my eyes open the whole time, trying to seem as though I was enjoying it while sliding a small card wrapped with a hundred dollar bill into her skirt pocket.  
  
"There's a card and a hundred dollar bill in your left pocket. Both will help you find me. I won't be there if you don't let me pass. So," I looked her deeply in her eyes, using the affect of my blue eyes to it's upmost potential.   
  
"What d'ya say?"  
  
* * *  
  
Walking down the terminal, my carry-on on my back, I couldn't help the grin that came to my face. Women were so easy to manipulate. Most of them anyway...  
  
Now, on to more important things. Unfortunately for me and the headache that's now arrived, my business branches out from the meeting in New York. I had a meeting on the flight with Aaron Bronoviche, the Boss' oldest and closest associate. He headed our branch in Los Angeles. I saw him a lot as a kid, but I only remembered him because he never brought me gifts. He wasn't the very sensitive type, then or now. You can't really be the sensitive type when your in this business as far as that goes, but hell, he took it a step too far sometimes.   
  
It made him good at his job and that's probably why the Boss had me train with him. I had him to thank for my rank as head of our branch in Chicago.   
  
Like I was saying, the reason we were meeting was because there'd been some problems in his branch and people were getting worried. So worried that myself, all the way in Chicago, needed to be involved. From what I'd heard thus far, a few people in L.A. were finding they're tongues looser than we'd like.  
  
He was not the grand statue he used to be which was probably part of the decline out west. It could have been the job or the fact that his son was a recklass child, but whatever it was, it was wearing him down. See, under normal circumstances Mr. Bronoviche would never ask for help because he didn't need it. Ten years ago, you didn't mess with Bronoviche and live. In that town in that line of work, he was the one who made you or broke you. It was as easy as that.  
  
Nowadays, things have changed. Personally, I believe that his people aren't the only one's we, we being me and the Boss, had to worry about. Not with the cops and like getting closer and closer with every passing year. Time was the only one to tell in the end and from the looks of my watch, I had ten minutes before they began boarding.   
  
I think I need some coffee.  
  
**************  
  
A figure stood in the shadows of the room, their breath visible in the overly air-conditioned room. Glimpses of light shined on expensive glass collectibles through the large window, curtains drawn aside. It's expanse was impressive, taking up more than enough space to suit their needs. They were a group of the most powerful people in the world and they could (and did) have whatever the hell they wanted. The figure frowned.  
  
Two other people sat in chairs six feet away, both men distinguishable by the broad shoulders and short shaggy dark hair. Both seemed bothered, uncomfortable you could say. Why was unknown to either of them. They were following orders, though these orders were definately cause for question. Their own bosses, workers for this mysterious figure who stood before them, were out of town. This wasn't unusual, the figure often made them leave the city for jobs, but the odd part was that the annual meeting of their organization was that night and it was imperitive they be there. Instead, they sent the two men, and that was what made the situation so wrong...  
  
"Gentlemen." The voice cut through the silence, the sound echoing from the shadow at the window, eyes gazing without seeing the chaotic scene of traffic below. Rain streamed steadily to the streets, the noise lost against the three inches of glass.   
  
"Thank you for coming. It is very unfortunate that your bosses, one Huston Hughes and Jerad Broke, were unable to attend my little gathering.." A smirk could be heard and one of the men, Andrew, fiddled with a crease in his pants before speaking.  
  
"I find it most peculiar, sir, that they would not arrive. It is not their way to miss something that is as important as this." The second man nodded in agreement. The figure's head turned, the light now reflecting off their mouth. It curved up in a smile, revealing an impure soul hidden behind pure white teeth.  
  
"It is very unfortunate indeed. Odd, no. It has happened before, and it will happen again. I'm sure that their replacements will not act the same." Andrew leaned forward, confused.  
  
"I'm sorry, but replacements? What happened to them?" The figure's head fell back and the laugh filled the room.   
  
"I think I'm going to like you Andrew. And yes, replacements. I am the Boss, and this meeting does not go unattended, be it missed by the head of a city's branch, or a limo driver. Therefore, your bosses," the voice paused to sneer at the word.   
  
"Have been taken care of, and you two will replace them."  
  
"But-"  
  
"Don't ask questions that needn't be answered. I have much to do before tonight. I can't waste my time explaining everything to you. Andrew, you've been working under Houston for twelve years, and Crew, you the same for Jerad. I wouldn't have let you up here if I didn't think you would be able replacements. Now, any questions that will not annoy me." The voice was steely, not asking but commanding anyone to challenge.   
  
"Just one," Crew said, speaking for the first time. His low voice was gruff, revealing the affect of twelve years with death and carnage on a man.   
  
"Who are you exactly? Besides the Boss?" He leaned forward, squinting into the darkness.   
  
A small breath was released before the figure walked into the light. The person leaned forward into their faces, a smirk crossing their lips.  
  
"You're...." Crew began but the words were cut off.  
  
"Your worst nightmare."  
  
**************  
  
"Good afternoon, and welcome passengers to Chicago O'Hare International Airlines. Flight number A-276 nonstop from Chicago to New York City has now landed and is ready to board. Please have your boarding passes ready..."  
  
Hm. Those ten minutes flew by pretty quickly. The styrofoam cup crushed with ease under my hand and got tossed in the trash as I push past the standing passengers for this flight. I was in first class, so first dibs for me.   
  
A blast of cold wind hit me as I entered the short hallway that led to the plane's entrance. Thank god for thick cotton trenchcoats.   
  
"Ahh..." Much better. A few attendants were moving around in the back, cleaning the aisles. I found my seat and waited.   
  
I wasn't left there long. A few minutes later a man, salt and pepper hair neatly cut and suit fresh from the cleaners, walked in and sat beside me. We didn't speak, just stared in other directions. He reached up, his hand gloved with tan leather imports and pressed the assistance button.   
  
The attendant came up from behind and his eyes looked us over, pausing at me. It was amazing...his eyes were just-  
  
"Is there anything I can get you two?"   
  
"Yes," Aaron answers, his voice gruff. "Vodka straight. He'd like the same." My eyes narrowed at his assumption, but I let it pass. The dark eyed, dark haired man would be here again.   
  
"Well Aaron, as assuming as always." I decided to ease into the conversation. There was no need to rush things. We had a good two and a half hours before we got there. He snorted and turned to me, his thick eyebrows almost covering his faded green eyes.  
  
"And you're as much of a smartass as the Boss. Not that I expected you to be any different," he added, light beginning to sparkle in the green specs.  
  
"Of course not. The Boss taught me everything you didn't. Good thing she affected me more than you did, eh?" He hit me and shook his head.  
  
"Thanks for nothing, Briefs."   
  
"I was kidding, you know it." I laughed. "You're just being a picky old man."   
  
"Hey! I could take you out for that you know." He tried to say it seriously but couldn't, humor coming from every word.  
  
"Yeah, I know, but you won't."   
  
**************  
  
The Chief of Underground Investigations sat at his desk, piles of papers stacked high, tie undone and hair sticking out at odd angles. His glasses were large and squared and slid down his nose as his dark eyes flashed over a file. It was slammed shut and covered with another one.   
  
Pan looked at him from her place on her desk and sipped at her coffee, gripping it with both her hands.   
  
"Dad, you shouldn't work so hard..." His eyes flashed up at her and she frowned in return.  
  
"Pan, it's almost two o'clock. I know that they're having that gathering tonight, and if I get there I can finally capture all these people! All these papers and years of research will finally pay off! I can't just lay back now!" She cringed at his tone. He was right. He'd been searching for this group of organized crime leaders since before she was born.   
  
Sighing in defeat, she set the cup down and walked over to him, kissing his cheek.   
  
"Okay, Dad. I just worry about you. You don't hide your sleep-deprivation well."   
  
"Gee, thanks for the compliment," Gohan responded dryly, taking off his glasses and setting them on the desk. She smiled and hugged him before walking towards the door.  
  
"No problem. I'm gonna get us some lunch. Subway okay?" He nodded and she left after one more lingering glance.   
  
Gohan leaned back in his chair and pulled his feet atop his desk. Pan was right. He had been lacking sleep lately, but that was understandable, right? I mean, anyone would when they're life's work might finally be paid off.   
  
He spun the chair around and looked out his window. It was dark out, clouds covering the sky and rain dousing the city. A perfect match for his mood.   
  
The chair resumed it's normal position and he returned his attention to the files.   
  
It was only a matter of time...  
  
**************  
  
The drinks had arrived, the exact moment inviting all the coach passengers to find their seats. It was only a few seconds before the attendant was whisked to the back of the plane and I silently cursed each and every person that passed. The humorous mood was lost on Aaron.  
  
"Okay, Aaron. Let's talk." The green dulled in the older man's eyes and he slouched in his seat, looking anywhere but at me.  
  
"Aaron, we both know how much I hate this flying stuff. You can't just go and not tell me."   
  
"Trunks, don't give me that shit. We both know why I'm talking to you. And you're flying because the meeting is tonight, not for me." My lips formrf a frown, but I wasn't as put out as it seemed.  
  
"Please?" The tone of voice used for that one word must have hit a chord in the man as his body language revealed that of a beaten man.  
  
"Alright, Trunks. The thing is, things are falling apart. I don't know how, but the police are getting more money and equipment which has enabled them to do two things. One, they can track down everyone's boys, and two, they can pay them enough to reveal even more people. It's risky nowadays just finding a man to buy your groceries from!" He sighed. I began to regret questioning him.   
  
"Anyway, they caught Jim last week, and as we both know, he's worked for us both and was never very good at keeping his big mouth shut. He could never produce anything that would be solid evidence against us, but someday there's gonna be someone who can and personally, I don't wanna be involved when that day comes..." That caught my attention and it showed.  
  
"What do you mean, Aaron?" He sighed, rubbing at his eyes before replying in a voice barely definable as a whisper.  
  
"It means that tonight at the meeting, I'm gonna reveal my retirement from this business, kill my men, and then kill myself."   
  
My body froze as my mind raced with the possibilites. The affect of his words hit home.   
  
"E..Excuse me?"   
  
"Trunks, what choice do I have? If I don't, more people are gonna be affected and that's not what I want. I lost my son because he was stupid, and I was stupid enough to let him go."  
  
"WHAT?!" My eyes widen to an un-fathomable size as he stared at me, surprise etched into the worn features of his face.  
  
"You haven't heard? He was planning on taking one of our hits in the more shady suburbs alone and got himself shot in the head."   
  
"No... I hadn't heard. I'm sorry." He nodded at me, meaning for me to forget about it. I felt inclined to do so to be able to hold up any conversation for the rest of the flight.  
  
"I don't think the Boss'll like that idea very much," I spoke up after awhile, my gaze leaving the clouds and blue sky to face him. Aaron scowled and grinded his teeth.  
  
"Well, your mother can think whatever she'd like Trunks. No matter what... this is how it's gotta be..."  
  
************** 


	3. The Rain Shall Fall

Disclaimer; I don't own DBZ.   
  
**************  
  
"Good afternoon passengers. We'd like to thank you all once again for using our airline..."  
  
The view from the window was endless, the sky pure without the usual distortions of clouds not seen at our 'current elevation of 34,000 feet.' Coversation between Aaron and I had ceased awhile ago. We were both content sitting in our seats, drinking to the others misfortune.   
  
Silence was a comforting thing in a way. I wasn't too sure I wanted to talk about what this plane was taking me too. Visits with my mother were never on pleasant terms. Don't take that too seriously, though. It's not as though we hate eachother, but she does put some of her anger on the misgivings of my father towards me. She never recovered from 'the affair' as they call it that my father had. She'd killed the woman anyway, so whatever had happened wasn't going to happen again. At least, not with the same woman.  
  
My drink was running low, and it was my third of the flight. I shouldn't have much more. Don't want my sense dulled in an area where I'm most at risk.   
  
There were smaller chains of gansters and such that held a grudge towards my mom, and wouldn't think twice about killing me. They didn't have much of a chance though. Not to sound arrogant, but they'd have to be pretty damn good to get me.  
  
I pressed the button for service and waited only a matter of seconds until an attendant came. Lucky for me it was the dark haired one of before.  
  
He was closer than before and I could smell the appealing aroma of vanilla and chocolate, an odd combination I would normally think of as foul. But on the man's tanned skin, that thought need not apply.   
  
His smile was young and cheery though he couldn't be any younger than I was. The smile he possesed was something my face had never had. Innocence was never a high priority in my line of work. Not unless you wanted to be killed.   
  
"Would you like anything else, sir?" I blinked up at him and gave a small smile.   
  
"Yes, a coffee. Strong." The man laughed and nodded.  
  
"I'll be right back."  
  
Well, at least I had *something* to look forward to.  
  
**************  
  
Gohan sat at his desk, rummaging the files in a hurry to make up for the time he'd lost taking a lunch. His confidence in his ability to catch the group tonight was fading fast. All this information's pattern of certainty before was beginning to fall apart. One location clashed with the people who were said to run it, and money was found in places it shouldn't have been...   
  
Things weren't going his way.  
  
Pan had returned to her own desk, rummaging less important files of missing or stolen items. She was only twenty and didn't have enough experiance to help her father at his fourty-four years of age. She was content though.   
  
She sighed and her eyes looked to the photo on her desk. She was two years old in it, and her mother, only eighteen at the time, was holding her as her father stood beside them. She'd taken his police hat and put it on her head, not caring how it'd clashed with her Power Rangers shirt and green pants.   
  
It'd been taken only a few weeks before her mother had died. She'd been killed in a car crash and it had changed her fathers in ways Pan believed were forever. He'd never been the same since then.   
  
Growing up with him had been hard, coming home to a sulken and sometimes drunk face, making your own lunches and washing your own clothes. When she was six her aunt on her mother's side had taken her in and had Gohan taken to a recovery center. Pan didn't see her father for three years until her third grade play where he came looking as he used to with a small bouquet of flowers for her.   
  
He was still closed off and dedicated to his work, but at least he was able to take care of her as he should, and that was all that mattered.  
  
The phone rang and Pan was taken from her memories. She pushed the red button and answered in the same old way.  
  
"New York Police Department, Detective Son speaking."   
  
"Yes," came a gruff reply. "I'd like to speak with Sergeant Son, please. It pertains to his case." Pan's eyebrows raised and she covered the mouthpiece.  
  
"Dad." The short black-haired man didn't respond, his motions continuing just as involved as before.  
  
"Dad!" Gohan stopped and looked up at her.   
  
"What is it, Pan?"   
  
"There's someone on the phone for you." Gohan raised his hand and shook his head to say 'Forget it, I'm busy,' but Pan continued.  
  
"He said it pertains to your case." This caught the man's attetion.  
  
"Transfer him." She nodded and uncovered the phone.  
  
"I'll connect you to him now." Pressing the necessary buttons, she gave a thumbs up. He nodded and picked up the phone, spinning the chair to face the window for a little privacy.  
  
"Sergeant Son speaking. Ms. Son informs me you might be able to help me." The voice on the other line gave a deep laugh.  
  
"That's true, though I may add it will help me also."  
  
"How so," Gohan asked.  
  
"Let me explain..."  
  
**************  
  
The briefcase hung over my shoulder loosely, my arm comfortable in what could be considered the opposite. The airport was crowded as usual, but not to the point of making contact with all of them. My mood wasn't as easy-going as it had been. Nothing had happened between dark mystery man and I. Some woman had complained about how the cookie had made her child cry. I had my gun, so I must have very good self-control if you ask me.  
  
Aaron was beside me, carrying his bags own bags. He looked around the airport to make sure there weren't any FBI or such around. Why there would be an FBI agent looking just for the two of us was beyond my imaginative capabilities, but Aaron...well, he'd always been a little paranoid.  
  
"Hey, Aaron. I'm get a juice, k? Wait for me over there." He raised an eyebrow and smirked.  
  
"Jesus, Briefs, you drink any more liquid your toilet's gonna overflow."   
  
"Ha. Ha." My eyes narrowed but he just laughed at his own joke and headed towards the newspaper stand.   
  
Exiting the small shop a few minutes later, I joined him and we continued towards the outside, only a few five hundred feet before us. No problems had occured yet.   
  
"HEY!! HEY YOU!! STOP IN THE NAME OF THE LAW!!" At first, I just assumed the guy to be talking to someone else, but we both turned around and there this officer was, dressed in uniform waving his badge above his head as he ran towards us.  
  
"Shit."  
  
"Run, boy, don't just swear!" Aaron grabbed my arm and pulled me along as we ran towards the exit at topspeed. A gunshot resounded through the air, missing my leg by a few inches.   
  
"Damn, that guy's got some good aim for being a police officer." My feet picked up the pace and Aaron began to fall behind. He may be a tough guy, but he wasn't the one to perform hits anymore making him lose his peak physical shape. A second gunshot rang through the air and I bit my lip before releasing Aaron's hand and turning as I jumped through the door, gun drawn and my finger on the trigger. I fired and crashed the glass.   
  
The fall left me stunned for a moment, but when I looked up to see the police man on the ground, my worries left me. Scrambling to my feet, I ran from the airport and down the block to flag down a taxi.   
  
There were some more places I need to be, and sadly...  
  
Aaron couldn't be there with me.  
  
**************  
  
Gohan hissed through his teeth as he struggled to get himself up off the floor. The bullet had ripped right through his shoulder and blood was trickling down the clean cut. His hand pressed against it and pain shot through his arm. His grimace thickened, but the small shine of triumph rang in his mind. He'd gotten one of them which was enough of a sedative for him.  
  
Getting to his feet, Gohan looked at the body.  
  
"Shit," he muttered, turning the body over. He'd gotten the guy in the head. He repeated his curse and turned away.   
  
This was not good.  
  
**************  
  
Colors danced along the floor through the intricate stained glassed windows of the church. It was small and simple, but memories of my childhood in it were vivid. I shake my head. It's hard to believe someone like me who's killed so many has the moral to go to a church, eh?   
  
There was a couple at the front of the church before the altar conversing with the priest. A small bundle was in they're arms, and that combined with the glow of their faces, it was obvious they're child was going to recieve baptism. Whether I had this act myself, is a question never to be answered knowing my mom.   
  
With my mother, things were always business. Let's just say she never cuddled me as a child. Respect was more important than love when you were a Briefs. It's really all we can afford to be. That's why my 'obsession' as my sister calls it with love is so criticized by her.   
It's something to love for, in my opinion.  
  
The priest notices me and smiles, waving me over.   
  
"Why, Trunks, I didn't expect to see you here anytime soon!" I smiled and hugged him.   
  
"Same to you Father O'Brien. The church is growing I see." I gesture to the couple. The woman smiles with her husband.   
  
"This is a great church, especially with this lug leading it." I winked in his direction and shook the fathers hand.  
  
"I wish you only the best."   
  
"Thank you sir. We'll see you Sunday, Father." He nodded and they exited. O'Brien sighed and lit various candles. I followed in silence. O'Brien was so much older than I remembered him to be. The thought that maybe *I* was the one getting older frightened me.   
  
"Not much has changed, it seems," I say after awhile, noticing the chips on the stations of the cross still there since I was in middle school. He shrugged.  
  
"Funding isn't high in this district. The people are happy though." My frown was deep, but he didn't notice.   
  
"I could change that." The elderly man shook his head and blew out the wick.   
  
"Now, Trunks, I've made it this many years I can make it many year. I'm not that old, you know," he added, laughter dancing in his eyes. It seemed the church wasn't the only thing that hadn't changed. I sighed and patted his back.  
  
"I suppose. Just take care of yourself, okay?"   
  
"Only if you promise the same." I laughed at his fatherly tone and nodded.  
  
"Deal." The answer pleased him and he started to walk away.  
  
"Well, I must be going. You may feel free to stay, Trunks. You know your always welcome."   
  
"Thank you, Father." He waved and walked out. Moving to the front once again, I slid myself to the front pew and relaxed. Today was sure to be a long day.  
  
Fifteen minutes passed before I heard the familiar sound of sneakers on the churches un-carpeted floors. My head turned and met the dark eyes of the enigmatic flight attendant. I blinked before standing. He looked meek and gave a small smile.  
  
"Uh, hi. You were on the flight today weren't you?" I nodded.  
  
"I thought so. Hi," he said once again, extending a hand.   
  
"I'm Goten. Son Goten. Nice to meet you." His handshake was perfect for a person of neutrality. Not too hard, not to lanky.   
  
Perfect.  
  
"Trunks." His face showed surprise at the lack of last name, but that was too bad. I don't share that much at a first meeting. I'd just met the guy.  
  
"This is a beautiful church," Goten comments, glancing around at the sculptures and windows. I nod my agreement.  
  
"It's seems so old. I like old churches. They have that aura, you know?" He turned to me, his darker features brought out by the candles surrounding us. "You can feel what it's been through."   
  
He looked away and smiled, sliding his eyes shut to absorb the feel. I just stared at him. Sure, I liked the church, but I've never been one to think that deeply about it.  
  
After a few moments, my just standing there becomes a little awkward, and since I've never enjoyed that feeling, it's going to stop now.  
  
"Do you live here in New York?" His head turns to me and those dark eyes are staring at me again, seemingly absorbing the light reflected only moments before. Those eyes are so innocent... I look away.  
  
"No, I'm just visiting. The airline gave me my vacation on short notice. I'm staying with a really good friend of mine. I don't usually get to visit her though, so it'll be quite enjoyable. What about you, you live here?" I shake my head and walk towards the back of the church.   
  
"Nope. I was born here, but Chicago's my home sweet home." He nods and looks to a nearby statue.   
  
A half an hour passed, filled with the simple conversation of strangers who aren't disgusted by the other enough to not get to know them. It made me forget the events of only an hour or so ago. My shoulders sagged.   
  
How was I going to explain to my mom about him? She was not going to be happy at all...  
  
"Are you okay, Trunks?" Blinking, I straightened and nodded.  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine. What were you saying?" He didn't seem to believe me at first, but didn't question me. Good quality in a person.   
  
"I said I'd better get going. I'll be here for awhile, and I should get myself settled..."  
  
I nodded, though I wasn't very happy with losing his company quite so soon. Surprise for me. Not one to lose my manners in situations of emotion, I extended my hand.  
  
"Well, it was nice to meet you Goten." He smiled back and returned the shake.   
  
"You too, Trunks." I watch as his gravity-defying head of hair exit the doors and feel the cool brush of the rain held wind before my gut instincts run over my common sense and I run out after him.  
  
"Goten!!" He turns to me, surprise etched on his face as I catch up to him.  
  
"I know this may be a little bold, but would you like to have dinner with me?" Goten searches my face, to check me for a creep factor, before he sighs and pulls his jacket tighter around him.  
  
"Sure, that'd be nice."  
  
**************  
  
Gohan winced as his superior's voice boomed at him, surrounding the man's small office. He was on fifteen minutes, going on sixteen, for yelling at him at 5.2 decibels.   
  
"I'd have expected more from someone of your reputation, Son. But, since I know how closely related this group of people are to your wife's accident, I'll let it go. But you make another mess up like this one, killing another so needed information source, your ass is MINE!!"   
  
A smart comment was about to roll off Gohan's tongue, but he held it. Talking in anyway other than full of respect and gratitude would not do him any good right now. The comment about Videl had hit him too. Had that really been why he'd suddenly gotten such a rush about getting the two of them? Was that why he hadn't felt remorse at killing a man?   
  
He sighed and exited the office to sit at his chair. His hand rubbed his forehead, a motion Pan had recognized since she was twelve as a signal of her father's frustration. She'd picked up most of the conversation, not that it was hard with the boss yelling at the top of his voice.   
  
The comment about her mother hadn't only affected her father. She was confused now... How could that man be associated with her mother's car accident?   
  
Now that she thought about it, there were plenty of ways. She could have been conspiratorized against, but the chances of that were so small... Her mother had been at teacher after all. Who would kill someone over they're children's bad report cards?  
  
Moving to her father's desk, she leaned against it and tapped his spiky haired head.  
  
"Dad?" A rough grunt was her reply.  
  
"What'd Jones mean? About mom, I mean?" Gohan's head rose, his eyes wary as he thought about the situation he was now in. His daughter was twenty years old now..she could handle the truth, couldn't she? The childhood tale of the car accident had been more for his benefit then her's anyway...  
  
He sighed and leaned back in the chair.   
  
"Pan..about you mom. She didn't die in a car accident." Pan, who'd begun to sit down in a chair across from him, looked up at him, surprised.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I'd only told you that because you were so young, and I didn't think you could handle it. Well, that's not true..But you'd grown such an Olympic image of her that I couldn't bear to take it down for you. I could take it."  
  
Pan frowned.  
  
"I don't understand..."  
  
"Pan, this isn't the place for me to give you the whole story, but I can tell you the flat out truth. She wasn't killed in a car accident, and her death wasn't accidental, either. She was murdered."  
  
**************  
  
Goten's laughter filled our small booth as the rain still poured down, even as the sun had set ten minutes ago. The Italian resturant itself seemed to carry warmth and heartyness within it, and I was swept up within it despite myself. My body relaxed, my worries of a dark haired cop breaking in slipping from my mind.  
  
"Seems this friend of yours is quite the character, Goten. Not many people would do that just to get you outta trouble."  
  
"Ah, that's not half as bad as some things," he replied, taking a sip from his wine. "I tell ya, she's great. This food was delicious, by the way. I don't think I'd have ever found this resturant.."   
  
He was right. It was placed in a not-so-cheerful part of town, and wasn't likely to be found by a tourist. I'd known it because I'd grown up with the manager's son.   
  
"It is nice. One of the few places where I won't feel guilty stuffing my face." I laughed. I didn't let myself fill up on foods so I kept my body in shape. It's hard to explain, but it works.  
  
"Wow, it's almost eight. I really should get going now."   
  
"It is," I ask. I had to be at the meeting in a half an hour. I better get my butt in gear. He reached for his wallet, but my hand stoped him.  
  
"My treat. I asked you after all, right?" My smile was persuasive and worked like a charm, as always. I put the money on the table and put on my coat.  
  
We stood in front of the resturant, rain drizzling around us and wetting our hair.   
  
"Do you want me to walk you home? This neighborhood can be kinda rough." He shook his head and smiled.   
  
"That's fine. I'll just get myself a taxi. Thank you for the offer though Trunks. This was nice. We should do it again sometime." My agreement was shown through my nod. Handing him my card, I turned and waved goodbye. I had twenty minutes to get to that meeting, and it was a thirty minute walk.  
  
Figures.  
  
**************  
That's the end for this chapter! It's quite longer than most of my chapter, and I think it turned out pretty okay. I don't know what to think of my writing anymore. A certain review on my one-shot really hurt what little writing ego I have, so I definately have a damper on my reasons to write list too. Well, anyway, please review and let me know if I should continue! Thanks. 


	4. Blood of Snow

Hello All! I wrote this chapter on and off for about four days so, bear with me! I'm sure your all wondering where the update on CR is, but I worked on this for my uncle Kevin, who's supported me through ALL my up's and downs and vice versa. He's one of the reasons I'm still writing, though I must thank many other's who've written or reviewed. It's so flattering! As I was saying, this one goes out to Uncle Kev!   
Thank you for being there for me and god bless you and Uncle Beeny.   
  
Disclaimer; I don't own DBZ.   
  
**************  
  
"Oh, crap," I muttered, my feet slipping against the curb as the rain began to fall in large droplets, dousing the street and it's people it only a matter of seconds. It was odd, the amount of rain sweeping the country. The oddest thing is, it's always where I am. I once heard that rain represents the tears of angels. Maybe they were crying for the loss of an innocent? Ha. Like I was ever an innocent...  
  
The large building looms ahead, and my pace slows. No need to rush now. I'll make it on time. Shows this business can do a guy some good. A limo turns the corner like that of those on TV. They creep along, wary of passer-bys and suspicous looking people.   
  
Jerry wasn't doing a great job at not making himself looking suspicous doing that. Of course, Jerry himself was never that bright of a man. He isn't tall or formidible like Aaron is, er, was. Quite the opposite. He was small in height, about 5'1", with the little hair he had left a dark gray. He wasn't young, but then again, he wasn't that old. Stress is a killer and it's twice as bad when you do killings your self. Jerry was big a few years ago when he eliminated his father after he'd been found leaking information. A large show of loyalty that was surely not overlooked.  
  
I don't think he's killed since, now that I think about it. A lot of money had been put out as ransom for whoever got the job done, and well, my mom being my mom, she had to make sure she got in on it. Who better than the guys own son? Nevermind that the guy had been her father's best friend and partner. Betrayers were to be killed, and that was final.   
  
"Ugh, anyone but him." As I reach the doors of the building, Jerry's son comes out. There's a freak of nature if there ever was one. At 5'7", 315 pounds, with buck teeth and stringy hair, he was enough to fill your children's dreams with nightmares. It didn't help that he had a large scar from his left ear to his right eyebrow. We were both sixteen years old when I gave that to him. He'd stolen my chocolate bar. Justice had to be served.  
  
Pulling a pack of cigarette's from my pocket, I walk in the front doors and light one, inhaling the toxic smoke before releasing it a sigh of emptiness.   
  
"Hey, Briefs," Jerry greets with a grunt. His cheeks and chin hung from his face and he frowned, eyeing the object in my hand.  
  
"That'll kill you, you know." I smirk.  
  
"Better this than some moron with a good shot, eh?" We laugh and head to the elevator. The doors open and the tobacco-laden product is crushed beneath my two-thousand dollar shoes.   
  
It's showtime.  
  
**************  
  
Cold blue eyes looked around the room, taking in the expensive suits and silk ties covering the pathetic people she had the displeasure of being associated with. Minus her children of course. Them she could somewhat handle without being itching to bring out her gun.   
  
Her eyes narrowed at an associate chewing gum and catching her glance, he spit it out.   
  
"Gentleman, welcome," she began, her voice cool to match her eyes which now promised slow painful death to all who dared speak now.   
  
"It has been awhile for many. Ben Bagston," she smiled, looking at the man to her left.   
  
"Kevin Knowles," she continued, switching to the opposite sides.  
  
"And Trunks, my son. My how you've grown." Her smile slid to the side, a killer's smirk before her face became stone once again.  
  
"As I was saying, we are here today for a very important reason. I'm sure all of you have heard..." She referred to Aaron, and everyone nodded, their faces solemn.   
  
The moment was broken as the door slid open, revealing the dark, spiky haired form of her husband. She frowned and glared openly. His hand raised in a small plea as he walked by to his own seat at the opposite end of the table.   
  
He was deeply irritated. Vegeta hadn't expected that stupid detective to go and kill the man. Aaron was good and he'd known about his reservations towards Bulma. He could've been his chance..  
  
AND NOW THAT STUPID DETECTIVE KILLED HIM! His eyes narrowed at the table before him. Now, the phone call where he'd left a very clear message informing him that if he wanted anymore tips, to 'be more fucking careful!' had made him late. Bulma was not going to be a happy camper.  
  
"Moral!" She shouted, causing the rooms inhabitants to jump minus Trunks and his father.   
  
"Moral," Bulma continued, her voice neutral once again. "Has made a serious decline as is now made known by Aaron's death. Something must be done to deal with this situation before the organization crumbles upon itself!"   
  
"I'll tell ya what we should do," Jordan, a younger member of the Detroit branch, said. "I says we should disband." Mumbles of agreement seem to come from everywhere as people tried to agree without revealing their own problems with the business. Bulma's face turned red.  
  
"Are you all CRAZY?! I now see just why moral is so horrible! IT'S BECAUSE YOUR ALL A BUNCH OF FUCKING SISSIES!" The men stared at her as her ragged breath filled the room.   
  
"What has happened to you all?! Don't you remember what you were brought up to believe? To do? Your parents and their parents, and their parents..They did as we do and it's because of them that you have what you have. Money. Power. The very things average people dream of. And you were born to it. Now you want to throw it away because some stupid teenage sons of yours 'don't wanna'?!  
  
"If we disband, that's the end of it all. No more checks in the mail or money in the bank over ten thousand dollars. No weekly presents to get your children to love you. Jordan, you think your wife's gonna love you when you stop drowning her in the dough?" The boy grimaced and shifted, avoiding her eyes.  
  
"So, now you see. Without this," she laughed cruelly. "Your all nothing but a bunch of sorry excuses for men." A smile came over Bulma's face, looking much like a devil who's closed the deal of a soul. In a way, Trunks mused to himself, she was.   
  
Clapping came from the door, and all heads turned to it. Shadows shrouded the person in the darkness, and she stepped forward, lights glistening on the large trenchcoat, as her blue eyes sparkled from the darkness which hid her face.   
  
"Bravo, mom. Bravo." Bra stepped out of the light and shrugged off the coat, showing a well tailored suit ensemble that fit the cool, calculating machine that was the youngest Briefs. She took off her beret and threw it atop the coat.  
  
"Bra, what are you doing here?!" Trunks demanded, rising from his seat. "Who's going to watch the going-on's in Chicago?!"  
  
"Trunks, sit down." Bulma narrowed her eyes. "Bra was here under my instructions. I had some things to be taken care of and Bra was only too eager to help."   
  
**************  
  
I frowned as I returned to my seat. Mom and Bra were doing something behind my back, and I didn't like it at all. Alone, both of those women were dangerous, but together...I'd rather not fathom those implications.  
  
"Now, let us move on to other problems. That is, of course, anyone wishes to discuss this issue further?" I roll my eyes. Like anyone was gonna say anything *now*.  
  
"Good. Moving on..."  
  
**************  
  
"Finally." My hands reach up to tug at my face. The meeting was at it's end. The clock on the wall shows it to be two o' clock. The worst part was I didn't hear half of what was going on. Couldn't have been that important...  
  
"Hey, Trunks." Oh no. Anything but him. I just wanna go HOME.   
  
"Yes, Moren?" That ugly blob..ugh.   
  
"Yeah, Trunks, see, it's like this," he began, swiping at his nose and picking at his pants before continuing.   
  
"There's this girl..."  
  
"Oh, no. Don't start. I'm not gonna go kill some girl because she finally saw your face and ran for the hills." His large face contorts to anger.  
  
"You shut your mouth!" I stuck my tongue out at him. Odd, is it not? Me, acting so immature. But this guy...he's an exception.  
  
"I'm serious Briefs!!" He grabs my collar and lifts me up a couple inches, but Jerry walks over.   
  
"Moren! Put him down now!" Moren gave me one last glare before returning me to the ground. I snorted in his direction before swiping any wrinkles out of my suit.   
  
"I ask you learn to control your son, Jerry." The short man turned to me.  
  
"It's your own fault, Trunks. You provoked him. Don't try to deny it. The two of you have been like this since you were kids." He had a point.  
  
"Fine. Now, what was it he was trying to say? Something about a girl?"   
  
"Ah, yes. What he was trying to tell you is that there is a girl who came into the club every week and since she was a horrible player at poker which she played with him often, she owes him a lot of money. As of late, however, she's been refusing to pay and telling him that if he doesn't stop threatening her, she's gonna go to the cops and report him. We wouldn't have bothered you with this, but we think she may be the one who tipped off that cop who...well, did Aaron in."   
  
"Wait a minute." I swallow as maturity roots itself back into my persona, and his words are dissolved.  
  
"How does she know what he does for a living?" Jerry sighed and wiped his brow.  
  
"You know how Moren gets when he drinks, Trunks... He would rat us to a cop for another drink." I curse loudly and slam my fist into the table, breaking off the corner. Most of the other associates had gone downstairs to eat, so there wasn't anyone staring at me funny.  
  
That moron really knows how to make a mess of things. Killing someone was not how I'd intended to spend my time here.  
  
Then again, when your born into the mafia, what choice do you have?  
  
"Fine. Give me the details."  
  
**************  
  
"Oh love, oh loverboy...whatcha doing tonight?!"   
  
I slam my eyes shut and curse. Stupid George.   
  
"GEORGE! DO HUMANITY A FAVOR AND *SHUT* UP!!!!" His head pokes around my bedroom door and he frowns.  
  
"Why you gotta act all pissy and stuff? You got rammed the wrong way last night or someten?" My eyes narrow and my fists turn my knuckles white.  
  
"George.."  
  
"Ya, ya, big scary man. You know your gay, don't try to hide it."   
  
"WHAT?! George, not everyone in the world is gay. Of course, your full of enough of gayness to supply them all!" He snorts and turns around, his shirt clearly stating in rainbowed letters 'I'm gay, and that's OK!" I laugh and lay back down on the bed.   
  
The conversation was the same as always. George was kind of the comedy relief in my life. Makes me feel sorry for myself.  
  
Shaking my head, I head to my dresser to find my clothes. Opening the drawer, my eyes bulge.  
  
"GEORGE! WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO WITH MY CLOTHES?!"  
  
**************  
  
I grumble my way down the street, pulling my trenchcoat tightly around my body until I stop in front of a newstand. Seems my dear roomate George decided that my clothes were too *drab* and decided to change them to *pride*.  
  
Yay.  
  
"And what would you like today, sir?" My eyes scan the different newspapers and a certain article catches my eye.  
  
'Airline worker found dead near local McDonalds in dumpster.'   
Well, news travels fast in this town. Picking up the newspaper, I hand him the money and walk towards the resturant Mr. Mysterious Flight Attendant, or Goten as he calls himself, has choosen for us to meet once again. Chivo's. Didn't sound too fancy. Sounded like a fast food resturant to me, but I'd go anyway. Gotta have some fun while I'm out here.  
  
"Hey, Trunks! Over here!" Goten stood in his seat and waved his hand, a smile on his soft features as I approached. He was happy to see me. That was a nice feeling.   
  
"Hey, Goten. This place is nice..." I speak the truth. It was a semi-outside resturant and he'd choosen a table under the shade of a larger tree with flowers sprouting from curving glass vases sealed to the middle of the clear glass tables. The sun was shining brightly, a wind blowing reminding all the people out and about that Christmas was approaching. Snow was said to fall any day now. Snow was a horrible thing to work in. Rain, that washes away blood. Snow, that preserves it.   
  
Smiling, I sat down and mustered a smile back to him. He was very cheery today. I hate cheery people. Most cheery people.  
  
"Thanks. My friend Susan recommended it to me. She's a really good friend of mine. I'm staying with her while I'm in town. I think I mentioned her to you last night..." The name sounds familiar from somewhere, but I let it pass.  
  
"Yep, I remember. She sounds like a wonderful girl."   
  
"Oh, she is." Goten's dark eyes lit up and circled his finger around the edge of his water glass.  
  
"We went to high school together. My mom, my brother, and I, we moved here from Conneticut after my father died. She showed me around the school, and we just hit it off."   
  
"To friends then." Raising my waterglass, we toast and eat. The conversation is fulfilling though I wouldn't say I knew him inside out. I knew he was an innocent like most people are. He grew up with the usual childhood dreams of becoming an astronaut which in a way he didn't give up on. He's a flight attendant, that's close enough.  
  
"My mother hated the idea. 'Why would you wanna go into space? To blow up?'" He paused to laugh. "She can be a little moody, but I still love her. It's natural for a mother to be protective. Especially when you had a father who died in the field, he was a cop by the way, and when your eldest son takes on the same job." I put down my cup and swallow.  
  
"Your brother's a cop?" Goten smiled.  
  
"Yep. I haven't talked to him for the longest time though. I don't even think he's in this city anymore. I know he got married, but that was about eighteen or nineteen years ago. Boy, that doesn't say much for me, huh? Doesn't know the location of his own sibling..."   
  
"Join the club." The look on my face gives the remark humor, but inside the shock of seeing Bra at the meeting without my knowledge bothered me. It's never a good thing in this business to not know what's going on with your subordinates. The two just don't mesh well.  
  
An hour later we leave, heading towards a street filled with shops and boutiques of each owner's unique wears. His own long coat isn't doing him much good and the wind is starting to get to him. I am surprised. Living in Conneticut and New York would make you think he was used to this kind of weather.   
  
"Here, we should get you a scarf and gloves. Wouldn't do you good to freeze to death before you can enjoy your vacation." I took his hand and led him to a small clothing store, they're windows display advertising our needed items in every color, pattern, or material I'd have thought of. It was impressive.  
  
"Trunks, it's okay. I'm only gonna be hear for a few weeks so why bother?"  
  
"Because I want to see you again and I'm not into dating human popsicles." He laughed and blushed a little, the smallest stain of red showing on the tanned skin of his cheeks. A true smile finds it's way to me, but he doesn't catch it very long. I find a wrack of gloves very interesting...  
  
I'm sure the act doesn't fool him in the least, I don't care and for some reason, I don't believe he did either.  
  
**************  
  
The sun was beginning to set and from the corner of my eye I saw Goten close his eyes, taking in the warmth from our position on the park bench. It's been a long day, but a good one. I'd managed to make it through the whole afternoon without him seeing the shirt, though with our interaction with eachother, I couldn't say he'd be surprised.   
  
I wondered what my mother would think. What do I think? The whole idea of being with another male never bothered me. Love is love and all that. All those genres people fit themselves in are just to re-establish what they already know. That's what pisses me off sometimes. The name loses its meaning and becomes a means to demean other's instead being a recognizable name for your love.   
  
Did I just think all that? I look to my right. He affects me more than I thought. Let's just hope I don't grow a set of morals. I snort. Then we'd have a problem.  
  
"This was a nice day. Thanks for asking me to lunch." Goten opened his eyes and smiled.  
  
"No problem. I enjoyed it. Susan was at work anyway so if I hadn't met up with you, I'd be stuck in that apartment with her dog who, to be honest, freaks the hell out of me." I laugh and he hits my arm in mock offense.  
  
"Hey! I'm sorry but that's funny. Your *afraid* of a *dog*."  
  
"He's freaky! You take one look at him, tough guy, and you'd say the same yourself!"  
  
"Yeah, I'm sure." I stand and continue to laugh, shaking my head. He follows, grumbling about stupid violet haired men. There aren't many of those around, so I'll just say he's talking about me.  
  
"No need to get grumpy. I've gotta get going though. I have another appointment to attend to. You wanna be dropped off anywhere?"   
  
"That would work. In exchange for staying with her, I have to pick up her dry-cleaning."  
  
"Sounds like a fair exchange to me." We head towards my limo and when we stop infront of his destination a few moments later, an urge I can't surpress comes over me and I call out his name.   
  
"Goten..."   
  
"Yeah, Trunks-" He turned towards me but I cut him off by pressing my lips to his. He was surprised at my forwardness, though it didn't last long. Lucky me.  
  
As my mind left the real world, small sparkling flakes of white spiraled downward. When we pulled apart, a flake landed on his nose. Brushing it away, I returned to the car and drove off.   
  
**************  
  
The moon shone through the darkness of the street, reflecting from the thin layer of snow gathered at my feet. My boots weren't very appropriate for the weather, but I wasn't intendeding on standing her for very long. I had business to attend to.   
  
The limo pulled away and leaning against the front door, I check the streets for any sign of life. There is no one, only me and the silence brought by the cool underlying life that came with winter. Easing my replica key into the slot, I open the door to the house.  
  
There aren't any lights on, but I hear movement from upstairs. Being careful with my movements, I walked up the steps and paused. Her bedroom door was open and she walked across the room. Counting to three, I moved into the doorway and fired.   
  
She didn't have time to scream.  
  
**************  
  
Fortune was smiling at me tonight, I'd like to think. The girl didn't have carpet which made cleaning up the mess MUCH easier. She was pretty, but they usually are. I finish washing up my hands and walk back to her room. Her body had been carried into the trunk of the limo by now. They'd deal with it after I was taken home.   
  
Taking a look around, the girl seemed to be quite rich. There were paintings and vases around the room, everything matching everything.  
  
A glimmer of silver catches my eye and I sit on the bed to get a better look at the framed picture. It drops from my hands and onto the floor, the glass shattering as my mouth hangs open.   
  
"No..."  
  
It made perfect sense. That's where I'd heard the name Susan before.  
  
Moren's girl was named Susan.   
  
I looked at the picture of Susan and Goten at my feet.   
  
"God, what have I done?"  
  
**************  
  
Well.....Hope you all enjoyed that. I know, that was pretty evil...Just wait though! More evilness to come. I've got the whole fic planned out, just have to write it.. O_o ***ALSO I HAVE A VERY IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT!***   
  
I am having an art contest with pretty easy guidelines.. You just have to draw a scene from any of my fics, it doesn't have to be colored or anything, and email it to me at jackvbriefs@hotmail.com before December 21st! I hope you give it a shot! Oh! Before I forget, the prizes!!  
  
If you win, you will recieve either a one shot of your plotline choice written by moi, or a pic of your choice, also by moi. Thanks! 


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